Fortress of Secrets, Trials, and Enemy Rivals. - KOTLC

Prologue.

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Word Count: 881 words.
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It was my plan.

     It's always my plans that seem to mess everything up. And the worst part? This one had actually seemed promising.

     After the last encounter with Lady Gisela, I'd realised just how much danger I'd put my friends in. Just how easily they could be the next trees added to the Wandering Woods. Just how easily Keefe's arm had cracked and Marella's powers had spiraled out of control. 

     It wasn't safe for any of them to be forced into this hellish environment anymore; they're only kids.

     And so as soon as I had made sure that everyone was safe - that everyone was out of harm's way, whether the harm be members of the Neverseen or me myself - I'd made the decision to run.

     Multiple times I've believed that the best decision would simply be to return, to tell everyone that it was a joke or some long discussion with the Black Swan. But the plans had already been made by the time I finished speaking with Mr. Forkle, and my bags had already been packed on the night he'd come to collect me, three days after Keefe and Maruca had been released from the Healing Center.

     I should have left sooner, but it felt like my responsibility to make sure they at least made it out of their cots safely. That they didn't have any permanent damage because of me.

     I'm not sure what I would do if I'd found out that another one of them had some sort of remanent from this long, ever-suffering war.

     So, with only one note being written - a brief promise to Keefe - I left.

     My recall of my journey to the fortress in which I now reside isn't clear to me, though most things aren't anymore.

     I only remember feeling the guilt rip away at my soul and at my heart, and then shutting it down before I broke. I'd already ran, and was in no quick position to rush to their aid if they needed it; breaking my own mind would serve no one any good.

     I guess the other friends I have in Black Swan are fine, but they aren't my friends. They aren't Dex or Biana, or Linh and Tam. They will never be Team Valiant, or have the same input into my decisions as everyone else, and they certainly don't have the ability to anger me as much as Stina does, though I miss her annoying input as much as anyone else's.

     And none of them are Keefe. No one is Keefe.

     Honestly, I worry about him more than the others. At least I know that they have their families to help them through this, if they do miss me at all. But Keefe has practically no one. Lord Cassius is about as helpful as a sack of potatoes and a jar of dirt, and Lady Gisela isn't exactly someone we're on even terms with right now. 

     And I'm not even sure if Ro has returned.

     When I reached the fortress where I now train ruthlessly every day and sleep for only a few hours every night, suffer through drills of terror and war, I was given the key to my room.

     Left corridor, three flights of stairs, grey wing. Room B17. The Moonlark's.

     Being called the Moonlark every four minutes is rapidly getting old, a constant reminder that I am not like the rest of them, but instead a malfunctioning mess of tangled DNA and genetics. For the sake of keeping everyone's worries under control, though, I behave as though it's just another nickname. That it doesn't make me seethe with rage every time that stupid bird is brought up.

     I hate the Black Swan, sometimes. I hate them for burdening me with this, I hate them for keeping world-changing secrets and then expecting me to act calm. But I think I hate Mr. Forkle the most. Mainly because I trusted him with everything I had, and he still doesn't lift a finger to help me sometimes.

     This saving the world stuff is appearing to be harder than the books make it look.

     But there is one thing I know for sure, one thing that constantly pushes me to keep going, to get up every morning and train until my vision blurs: I will be the winner.

     No matter what happens, to any other people or organisations, I will continue to fight until the very flesh on my bones rots and until my abilities swallow me whole. I will not surrender to weakness or laziness; I will not let my lack of faith show. I will be strong.

     And if I ever end up lost, I'll find my way back towards the top. 

    I was made to find my way through the hardest areas of my life, whether I was alone or not. But I've learned to lose myself to the pain, lose myself to the guilt of letting everyone down, and come back stronger.

     Stronger than they ever expected from Little Miss Sophie Foster, the girl who was taken.

     Lady Gisela keeps ranting on about Keefe's 'legacy', but what she doesn't recall that I, too, have a destiny. This death will be hers, not mine. This victory will be belong to me.

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Author's note: 'My least favourite part about writing fics: authors note. Writing them always makes me feel weird, I dunno. Short and not-so-sweet prologue that I dislike, but here we are! Chapters will be longer than this, so don't worry. Hopefully daily updates, though three days wait at the max. Please enjoy this fic, and tips or ideas are very welcome!!'

     - Riezie c: